M’Lady?Peter’s hunch was right; she wasn’t just gentry, she was part of the nobility. Cursing himself for not checking sooner, he glanced at the crest on the carriage. Leafing through Debrett’s Peerage in his mind, he found the family he sought.Hill. The Marquess of Bolton.They belonged to the same club though they did not often interact with each other. He knew that he had only one offspring, Lady Dahlia Bolton. They had never met before, but he was willing to wager that it was she who stood before him now.
“Yes, you must drive Lady Dahlia away from here, my good man. The Marquess of Bolton would surely wish for the same. After all, his only daughter’s safety is paramount.”
Dahlia froze. Peter saw as she and Benson eyed each other with what could only be described as guilty expressions. At that moment, Matteo called out to Peter.
“A Bow Street Runner has arrived, Peter. I shall go with them to the magistrate. I shall bear witness to this thug’s doings.” Belatedly realizing that his friend was speaking to the lady that they had rescued, Matteo hastily corrected his mistake and bowed. “Apologies, madam, I had gotten too caught up in making sure that ruffian will get the prosecution he deserves,and I forgot my manners. I hope that all that action did you no permanent harm, Miss?—?”
“Lady,” Peter said dryly., “Lady Dahlia Hill, daughter of the Marquess of Bolton.”
“My Lady.” Matteo bowed again, smiling charmingly. He glanced at his friend’s face. “This is, indeed, a very strange way to meet, but under the circumstances, I am sure introductions are in order. Allow me to introduce myself, Matteo Castor, Duke of Valen.” Yet another bow.
“Your Grace,” Dahlia curtsied. Then she looked at Peter and slightly raised one brow.
“What is this? You have not been introduced?” Matteo could not control a laugh. Peter barely resisted rolling his eyes. “Allow me to do the honors.” Again, adopting a formal tone, he faced Dahlia. “Icedale, may I present the Lady Dahlia Hill. Lady Dahlia, may I present His Grace, the Duke of Icedale.”
After the somewhat stiff curtsies and bows were exchange, Peter pressed on.
“You must tarry no longer in this place, My Lady.”
“Yes, to that, I agree. I thank both Your Graces for the invaluable service you have provided me. I shall not forget so easily.” She smiled a genuine smile that did something to Peter’s stomach and curtsied then she nodded to Benson and prepared to leave.
“Matteo, can you?—?”
“Go, Peter. Make sure Lady Dahlia is safely delivered home. I will bring your steed back to your house.”
Peter could not be sure, for Matteo delivered the words in perfect seriousness, but having been friends with him since their Oxford years, he thought he detected mischief in his friend’s voice. Matteo had not even warned him about propriety or entrapments.
To be sure, it was Peter who usually reminded his friend of such topics, but in this case, propriety must be bent a little, for safety must take precedence.
At least, so he told himself, but the truth was that he was not quite ready to be parted from her yet.
Perhaps it was that he needed to make sure she was safely delivered to her friends. He had gone to all that trouble of rescuing her after all. Might as well be sure that his handiwork was preserved. He felt strange that night, but really, he would not admit to himself thatstrangewas not really what he felt. He walked with long strides and caught Dahlia just as Benson was handing her into the carriage.
“Allow me.” He took her hand and handed her inside himself. He ignored the fact that she jumped a little as he took her hand, and he also ignored the fact that his heart raced a little as he took her hand.
When he stepped into the carriage after her and settled on the seat opposite her, Dahlia almost sputtered.
“P-pardon me, Your Grace, but what do you think you are doing?”
“Lady Dahlia, I cannot in good conscience allow you to traverse these streets alone again. I consider it my duty to escort you to your friend’s home—if you still prefer to go there instead of your home, that is.”
“But—but I am not alone! I have Benson with me.”
“A great deal of good that did you,” he muttered.
“I beg your pardon?”
“The night has deepened, My Lady, and as you have seen, this part of London is not safe. A lady with only her coachman is an easy prey—again, as you have seen.” He knocked at the ceiling of the carriage. “Drive on, Benson.”
“Why you… the nerve!” Dahlia fairly sputtered with indignation. “Have you any idea the scandal that could ensue if I am to be found in a closed carriage with a strange man that I am not even related to?” She did not wait for his reply. “Of course, such trivial things as ruined reputations are not important to you,Your Grace.Such trifles, why even bother with them?”
“Madam, half of London is already drunk at this time, and those who are not are too busy getting drunk.Onlythugs are out watching carriages with ladies in them.” He gave her a meaningful look, and she had the grace to blush.
Her eyes turned a deeper green when she was indignant. Peter had not noticed that he had been staring. To cover for himself, he used a more severe tone than he had intended.
“What were you doing in that part of London?”
Dahlia’s brows drew together, but she did not answer immediately. She seemed to be considering her reply.
